


Secrets in Disguise

by Donkayballz



Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Friendship, Major Character Injury, Medieval Fantasy AU, Possible Character Death, blood mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 02:16:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12049227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donkayballz/pseuds/Donkayballz
Summary: Living as an outlaw in a land in chaos is never easy, and to Jack this is no exception. Being the outlaw that he is, he is used to taking care of himself and rely on no one, but things changes when a group of thieves enters his life and takes him under their wings. What they do not know, however, is that Jack holds a secret which none of them could have ever imagined.





	Secrets in Disguise

His breathing was troubled and ragged, lungs screaming for air as he came to a stop. His hand fumbled in the dark in search for the nearest tree for him to find support against. His body was shaking, limps tired from the abuse of running and fighting his way through the heavy forest. Thickets and branches everywhere were slowing him down. Cutting him. Hitting him. Nearly forcing him to fall wherever a root from the wild vegetation had broken through the forest floor.

He was shaking. His body filled to the brim with adrenaline and fear, causing even this small pause to be a battle in itself for him to not start moving. To allow himself but a moment of rest before he would continue again, knowing he was far from safe.

It hurt so badly in his legs. Prickling and sticking and itching horribly from the abuse. He tried to scratch them, near desperate for some relief from the pain. He knew he could not keep this up. That soon he would run tired and that would be it for him. That he would never get to see the coming sunrise were they to catch him.

Gasp after gasp for air escaped him, the icy-cold of the night hurting his throat and lungs as he forced air into them, trying to will his beating heart to slow down.

A half-chocked scream sounded from him then. His heart near skipping a beat in horror as he saw the arrow sink into the trunk of the tree, narrowly missing where his hand was placed upon the trunk. Quickly he pulled his hand to himself as he spun around, eyes wide in horror as he scanned the dark night forest to find the source.

They were too close. They knew where he was.

His beating heart thundered in his chest in pure fear. He felt like a prey. Watching the world for the predator in the dark. He could not hear them. He could not see their forms. But he tried. He tried for he was desperate and he was so so afraid though he knew he should not be but he could not help it. All thoughts of Nightmares in that very moment were far from his thoughts and the least of his worries now.

He held his breath. Trying to listen to the forest for the direction of his pursuers but his heartbeat was too loud, his lungs demanding too much air for him to be able to hold it for more than a mere moment before he had to suck in another.

The wind was whispering among the trees. Somewhere in the dark an owl was hooting calmly in the night. The gentle rain made tiny sounds of water-drops fill the sleeping forest. All would-be relaxing and calming sounds.

But not now.

Now they were unnerving. The tiniest twig breaking; The tiniest rustle of leaves; An abnormality in the sound of the trees around him, and he felt as were death staring right at him, hiding just out of his sight.

He swallowed. Listening intensely for any sound of his pursuers, and eyes scanning his surroundings for even the tiniest movement.

His body was tense to the point he was no longer sure it would ever be able to move again.

Still as a tree he stood, with heart pounding and lungs screaming.

As time went by the slightest of hope seemed to settle in his mind. The tiniest thought that perhaps they had given up. Perhaps they had shot it at random. Perhaps they had taken a turn away from him. Perhaps he had managed to get away--

_THUMP_

He jumped, breath caught in his throat as he saw yet another arrow having planted itself in the tree by his side. And then another and another. And then he was moving. No longer caring for knowing exactly where his pursuers were located in the forest, having surrounded him or no. No longer did he care for finally being able to hear the sound of thundering hoofs against the moist forest floor. No longer did he care for being hit again and again by countless of branches, getting scratched and hurt in the process as fear had overtaken him. Ignoring all the pain and cuts and bruises his body was getting as escaping was all his mind could focus on, his body nearly moving on its own in pure instinct.

The forest floor was slippery under his bare feet. More than once nearly causing him to lose his footing and land upon the hard ground, only saved by his Shepherd’s crook to keep him up.

There were barely no light to guide his step – the moon having long since disappeared behind the rainy clouds blocking out its moonlight. It made navigating the forest harder, near impossible in fact. Everything was dark and black and looked the same no matter where he turned.

His robe stuck to the bushes and branches, slowing down his flee. Twigs and the like broke as he more often than not had to pull his robe free from their hold, stubbornly declining leave his robe behind in order to be able to get away, resulting in him getting stuck too many times to count.

Feverishly he tugged in the fabric, harsher and harsher in a desperate attempt to get free from his temporary trap from again having been caught.

He swallowed thickly as he heard the whoosh of an arrow fly past him, only followed by the yelling voices of his pursuers somewhere in the dark.

His body was shaking near uncontrollably. The sound of thundering hoofs and yells were only getting louder and louder in the dark, causing the panic within his body to increase for every passing moment. His heart was in his throat, beating frantically as he finally managed to make himself free from the bush, hurrying to run for dear life through the dark night forest. Over stock and stone he went, as fast as his legs could carry him on the slippery ground.

He changed direction then. A sudden turn away from what he had feared he had spotted in the dark before him, hurrying off in desperation as pure horror had taken its grip in his frantically beating heart.

A quick turn around a large oak, a sudden turn to the left. An arrow being shot in the dark, planting itself in the ground where his feet had been not moments before. His steps slipping as he took another drastic turn through a thicket and the world was suddenly no longer forest; for a brief moment a sea of treetops stretched out into the horizon, farther than the eye could see.

And then he fell. Stumbling down the steep hillside the forest had hidden from his view; unable to having spotted it through the thick underbrush he had been fleeing through only moments before.

He tried to stay silent, he truly did, but even he could not prevent horrified and painful gasps and half-chocked cries of pain to escape his lips as he tumbled down, hitting large and sharp rocks and broken and pointy trunks on the way down. Clinging desperately to his staff as did his life depend on it. As if it could shield him from some of the beating.

Pain. So much pain. His whole body was being tortured as his body fell and hit everything on its way to the bottom. Sharp rocks puncturing his skin. Pieces of wayward wood from trunks and bushes forcing their way through the fabric of his clothing, cutting his body and leaving splinters in his skin. Larger rocks too soft on the edges to cut and puncture, caused swellings and horrible pains whenever he hit his head against them.

At the final impact with the forest floor when his body finally -  _finally_  - made its way down, all wind was knocked out of his lungs, leaving him desperately gasping for air.

He could not move in his daze. His body was burning and screaming. His left ankle feeling as were it burning up in pure agony from the rough treatment. His head being no better.

The whole world was spinning around him, leaving him unable to tell up from down as he lay sprawled out onto the wet forest-floor.

He felt sick. Unable to feel just what damage truly had been tossed upon his body with everything hurting and buzzing and itching and throbbing as were someone continuously hitting him with clubs.

Hot warm liquid made its way down his face from a gash in his temple, spilling blood down his face and soaking his hair. It made him feel sick. Dizzy. Unable to focus.

And still, despite the protests from his body, despite the lack of will to move and with only the desire to lay still and recover, he still began to move. Forcing his body into motion as he pulled himself up from the forest-floor. Body aching, left ankle feeling like it was burning up, and the rest of his body as had it taken the worst beating in all of Amaeth.

A cry of pain escaped him when he finally got to stand up. The mere act itself nearly leaving him completely exhausted and beyond drained, having to heavily support to his staff in an attempt to keep himself up.

He had to take a moment. Had to collect himself even as the wind was picking up around him. Pushing him. Pulling him. Wanting him to move on. To get away. To hide.

Swallowing he looked up at the top of the steep from which he had fallen with a look of both fear and fatigue written upon his face. First when the voices of his pursuers were once again close enough for him to make out the words did he force himself to move.

Pain. White blinding pain took a hold of him. His whole body fell to the ground before he had managed to catch himself. Laying gasping and whining. His left ankle feeling as were it being torn to shreds. A mere step had he taken with it and it had send him to the ground as were he nothing but a rag-doll whose strings had been cut.

With a cry of pain he forced himself back up again, supporting as little as he could on his left leg – using his staff as a crutch as he began to move. A good idea in itself, if only it had not been for the slippery forest-floor that soon showed it impossible to move properly. Each step a battle against losing his footing. Against not falling to the ground once again.

With bare feet slipping beneath him he could do nothing but make a cry of pain as he lost his footing once more, falling to the ground with pain emitting from his whole body.

It took every ounce of strength in his body to move. To look upon his surroundings and take in his options with adrenaline and pain rushing through his body and pain dulling his senses and intensifying them at the same time – the mix causing a sickening feeling to spread throughout him.

It was nauseating. His whole world spinning as he began his flee anew. Tried his best to ignore the voices yelling somewhere atop the steep and the sound of Nightmares moving around in the dark.

Tried his best to suppress the horror having filled his body when once again being sure he had caught a glimpse of glowing eyes somewhere in the forest.

It was a play of his imagination; of his fear running wild and imagining things not there.

Yet he could not help fearing the worst.

He had to get away. Had to hide and find somewhere relatively safe but he knew that his chance of escaping by foot were as good as non-existent. He could barely even walk. Barely even keep a coherent thought.

Taking in a shaky breath he felt the wind push against him as he left behind the steep and moved through bushes and trees.

He tried to look around him. Tried to spot a place that would provide him with any kind of shelter or safety from his pursuers, but all he found was dark trees and their constant sounds of leaves and branches above him rustling in the wind.

With a pained whine he turned around to try to see. To make sure they were not right behind him.

Swallowing thickly he sent a silent plea to the Gods for help. Useless as that were.

The wind pushed at him again when he stumbled his way over a patch of slippery stones upon the forest floor. A gust of wind and he was sent to the ground on his back, hitting the back of his head against the stone. A pained groan escaped him as he sat up. Dizziness and pain being his only companion. His gaze turning to the sky above him in a sarcastic thanks for its mockery when he paused and blinked. Finding himself stupid for not having realized.

A possible hiding spot, he found, but the uncertainty of being able to climb kept him grounded. His mind was working. Trying to make up a plan through the daze having taken a hold of him. His thoughts by some miracle managing to consider every possible outcome of that option.

And then he was moving. However slow and painful it may be. He tried his best at temporarily ignoring the horrendous pain the movements caused as he began ascending the nearest and biggest tree.

It was troubling; even the tree being slippery to the point of him more than once being at the brink of tumbling down towards the ground below.

He could hear the yells from his pursuers coming closer in the dark below him. How the sound of horses became louder and louder.

He slipped. His limps desperately trying to regain balance as they fumbled around in the dark to the branches around him. His heart near skipping a beat when finally able to catch a branch and stop his fall.

Shakily he pulled himself back up again, close to the trunk of the tree and rested his head against it for but a second. The wind was picking up; playing with his hair as were it urging him to continue his climb.

With a shaky exhale he did just that. Ignoring the pain in his body the best he could. Biting his tongue until he could taste nothing but warm liquid copper in his mouth whenever the pain got too much and he wished to cry out into the dark.

He did not get far up. Drops of sweat from the struggle had formed on his forehead. His movements becoming too sluggish, his vision swimming too greatly for him to be able to focus; his hands more than once flailing in empty air, unable to catch the branches that kept moving out of reach.

Exhausted he sat down on a branch, letting himself rest against the trunk of the tree, unsure of just how far he had managed to come before giving up.

He could hear his pursuers somewhere below him. Their yells and angry voices echoing through the dark forest, scaring birds and bats to fly from the trees, their cries sounding near demonic in the night.

Despondently he looked towards the canopy of the forest as he desperately tried to will down his beating heart and frantic breathing. The rain had picked up during his climb; now instead of a gentle weeping from the sky, heavy and icy drops fell massively down upon the world, soaking him and chilling him to the bone.

As silent as he could he sat and listened to the sound of his pursuers’ voices finally fading as they moved through the dark forest beneath him. Undoubtedly they would do their best to find him once night had given way to day and the rain had eased.

With a shiver he hugged his bag and staff to his chest as he tried to keep some warmth in his bod. The night would be long and exhausting, he knew, as he in his silent mind prayed he would not be found by neither man nor beast before light had returned to the world.

 

* * *

 

The morning light came with a gentle breeze. Yesternight’s rainy clouds were no longer covering the sky, giving away to a colorful display of pinks and gold. The forest was awakening; the birds who yet had to depart to warmer shores were filling the early morning with their perhaps last song for the season. Leaves from the trees fell gently from the canopies far above the underbrush; dancing in the breeze in a beautiful mix of reds and yellows and oranges. The air was fresh and crisp from the night’s rain which had left the ground muddy and soggy and slippery to those not cautious of where to venture. Rays of light were making their way through the canopy of the forest, lighting up the gentle morning fog in a near magical way whilst the last will-o-wisps disappeared into their hiding grounds; their gentle yet ghostly chiming mixing with the sound of the birds in a way that easily could fool any into believing the world around them were far from dangerous.

With a smile on his lips the rider took a deep breath to fill his lungs, taking just a moment to enjoy the silence and peacefulness the forest offered him such an early morning. To believe a place such as this, so peaceful and magical, was home to creatures beyond that of common monsters was a mystery for the ages.

Alas, a fool he was not. He knew the forest was a dangerous place. In just a matter of moments could he go from enjoying the near idyllic state of the world around him to next be attacked by a fae for stepping too near its home. How a winged serpent could come from out of nowhere, wishing nothing but to consume him whole and attack, or how a nymph could materialize before him to ask him for help to find her way home, only to try to eat his heart.

Countless of times had such creatures tried and countless of times had such creatures failed.

And he preferred it stayed that way.

Stopping by the top of a steep hill he let himself take in the sight of the forest lain out before him with wonder and amazement written all across his features. As far as his eye could see it stretched; a sea of autumn golds and reds bathed in mist and golden sunlight. Far in the horizon, just barely visible to the naked eye lay mountains reaching for the sky – their peaks disappearing among far off clouds, impossible for any to ever reach.

The sight was nothing if not breathtaking, and although the midnight black mount beneath him grew restless from waiting, he allowed himself to stay for just a moment longer to enjoy the world painted before him. With head held high and proud, and tension near non-existent in his body, he turned to study the view instead; eyes searching for grounds where one could hope to find some prey.

Mere moments went by before he finally noticed.

With an elegant move he dismounted his horse, letting his fingers gently caress the outline of tracks in the mud of something having slipped and fallen. Freshly broken twigs and turned stones were easy to spot to the trained eye as they marked a creature’s decent down the steep before him.

With peaked interest he studied the path down the steep the creature had fallen; his eyes falling upon copper colors as a victorious grin spread upon his lips whilst he in his silent mind thanked the Gods for the night’s rain not having washed them away.

With a hand lingering upon one of his twin blades he allowed himself to descend the steep, cautious of any sudden or unnatural movements of the approaching underbrush. Having to slow his descend by holding on to branches and stones, to prevent him from tumbling down the much too slippery steep. His feet were barely able to find leverage enough to not slip on the mud-covered ground. Not even upon reaching solid ground once again did he allow himself to lower his guard. He could not yet tell whether or not what he was tracking was dangerous or not. The rain had obscured the tracks enough for him to be unable to figure whether it be something as dangerous as a fae or merely a common deer.

The wind was behaving strangely here. It made a curious dance in the leaves around him. Playing with his coat and hair in a way that nearly had him believe it be in cautious curiosity, causing a peculiar atmosphere to lay upon the area as were he not allowed to be there.

The distraught whine of his mount sounded above him but he heeded it no attention. He was too focused upon tracking his prey and upon not being taken by surprise by some wild creature. Already could he imagine his companions’ reactions were they to realize such had happened.

A rustling in a bush beside him had him stop up; one of his twin-blades already drawn to attack. His body was tensing as he prepared himself for a whatever beast may lay in hiding. Already was his thoughts running through the many possibilities from mere birds and common snakes to whatever magical creature may wishing to try and make him a snack.

A scoff left him as he lowered his blade as the creature finally became visible. Nothing but a mere critter it was. Running off to who knows where to do what it needed before winter would settle upon these lands.

And yet...

He frowned as he scanned the area around him upon finally reaching the end of the tracks. Stopping so suddenly as had whatever had made them disappeared into thin air.

With a thoughtful mumble he turned to study the ground once again, trying to find something he might have missed; any broken twigs or traces of blood or possibly a trace of fur or feathers from whatever he had been tracking. Any possible clue to just where his prey had been heading off to, but no. There were no traces of anything having been dragged off by another wild animal or of it having taken flight.

They just stopped.

With an annoyed exhale he closed his eyes, silently cursing his bad luck for leaving him with nothing.

He flinched slightly when a drop of liquid hit his forehead from the canopy above him. And then another and one more.

Rain, he thought in annoyance as he dried the drops from his skin but froze upon seeing the color of the liquid. He had to take a couple of moments to truly understand what he was seeing before his gaze darted upwards towards the branches above him with a deep frown between his brows.

Could it be...?

A sliver of hope went through him then. Immediately he drew one of his hidden daggers and began climbing the tree from which it had fallen, ignoring how the wind around him had changed, now pushing down at him as were he not allowed to move up towards what was in hiding above him.

Tiny pools of blood had been dripping down from the branches far above. Some fresh and others not. A good sign if there ever were one; either it were still alive but too weak to fight and flee, or it had died not so long ago, leaving him to get a much easier prey than anticipated. Gods be with him were the beast one of magic. The thought of such dangers did nothing to extinguish the excitement flaming up in him as he finally were to find what he had been tracing.

He halted his climb for a moment upon finally spotting a pair of skinny legs dangling from the branches above him, from what he assumed were a sleeping fae. One leg more covered in bruises than the other; the left with an infected wound at the ankle deep enough to make even him flinch at the thought of the pain it must have caused to receive.

It would not be able to get away, that much he knew. Just the mere amount of bruises upon its legs were enough for him to know it was badly beaten up to the point any escape would be beyond tricky for it. Fae may be some nasty humanoid creatures but they were fragile to the point one could only wonder how they could even manage to survive in such dangerous woods, and for that he was thankful. It would only make this that much easier.

He nearly chocked on his breath when he were face to face with the sleeping form of his prey. Neither fae nor beast were what he found, but instead a very human boy barely passing the age of manhood, if going from the faint stubble on his chin.

Although faltering slightly in disappointment of not finding what he had thought, he could not help but winch by seeing the state the boy was in. Broken and bruised. Skinny to the point no fat could possibly be on his body. Covered in dirt one was almost unable to spot the too pale skin beneath. Hair near colored rusty red from blood, making the brown of his hair near impossible to see. Clothing so ragged no shelter from the cold of the late autumn wind could be possible.

Had it not been for the slight rise and fall of the boy’s chest he could have sworn the boy might be dead.

He knew not how long he had been observing the sleeping figure, trying to figure what to do with this discovery. He could not simply leave the boy in the tree, could he? Would he even be able to get down when being as injured as he was? Why were he here, all alone in the woods?

Was it a fae trying to make him believe it was just a broken boy, and not a magical creature?

Of questions there were many circling his mind but none did he get the chance to ponder much about as the distant roar of a bear cut through the air; the sound being loud enough for the boy before him to awaken with a start, miraculously enough without falling from the branch he had made his temporary resting place. Barely had he opened his eyes before a cry of pain emitted from him as he collapsed in on himself, hugging himself as were he about to fall apart.

His breaths were short and shallow, each one followed by pained gasps and whines which more than indicated just the amount of pain he was actually in.

“Take it easy,” Nicolas began, barely daring to touch the boy before him out of fear that he may cause him any hurt. “It will be okay.”

Barely had he managed to say his words to an end before another start had gone through the boy, making him jump so he near fell off the branch beneath him had it not been for Nicolas managing to grab him last second.

Terrified brown eyes met his own as the boy tried to pull his wrist free from him. Pure panic was near shining off of him in radiance; visibly shaking by suddenly finding him with another human-being.

Nicolas let go of his wrist, allowing the boy to take a hold of his Shepherd’s crook as were it a protective barrier between them and pressed himself as far against the trunk of the tree as he could. A clear try to get as far away from him as he could.

Nicholas lifted his hands before him with a warm and gently expression on his face. “I am Nicholas. North to my friends,” he began, trying to show himself as nonthreatening as possible. “I mean no harm. I wish to help. I am friend.”

The boy was as frozen in fear. His eyes as glued to Nicholas’ face.

Never had he ever felt such a pang of pity towards another as had he in this moment, watching a boy this terrified, this frozen in fear from merely being in front of another human being. Had he not already decided, merely upon finding him to help him recover, he no doubt would have done so just by a mere glance at him now.

“I am a friend,” he tried again but this time the boy’s eyes sprung to the dagger he still held in his hand. As to underline his words he shed it when noticing, again holding his hands up in front of him in a peace-offering. “See? Friendly. I will help you.”

The boy shook his head near frantically, the action clearly causing him tremendous pain. “I-I…” He began, stammering, voice breaking before he went silent. His eyes betraying his try at keeping his emotions hidden; pure an utter panic shining from them. “You are one of them.” His voice was so low Nicholas could barely even hear it above the wind as it picked up around them, nearly mirroring the boy’s actions.

A frown formed between Nicholas’ brows. “One of who?” He asked gently, his curiosity only growing ever the more worried. This boy was in hiding. That much was clear.

There came no response. The boy before him was so obviously terrified of the thought of him being one of whoever it was he was hiding from.

Long painful moments of peculiar silence stretched between them as Nicholas awaited a response. He wished not to rush the other, well knowing that doing so could most likely cause more harm than good. Even as he wished to repeat the question, fearing the boy may not have heard, he did not. He could not. His attention was forced away from the broken boy before him as a yell cut through the air, causing birds to take to the sky in surprise. Their surprised chirps being near thunder in the else so silent forest.

Only when a whine sounded from the boy did Nicholas look back at him, surprised by the amount of fear decorating his features. His expression spoke more than enough. Whoever was after him was near and with that possibly danger.

Now, he may know nothing of the boy and his story or why he was hiding, but he had this _feeling_ in his gut. Like there was something… _Something_ about this boy…

The wind was changing around him as he stared, trying to figure just what this feeling was. To pin point just what it was about him that made him feel so obligated to help him. To make sure for his safety.

“You stay here,” Nicholas spoke, sending the boy a careful smile. “I will go down and make sure they will not find you. I do not know of reason you are hiding, but I will keep them away. That is promise.”

He stayed not to hear what the boy had to say in response. He could feel the boy’s eyes upon him as he made his descent to the ground. Sense the panic and fear and doubt emitting from him.

How horrible.

It was not unusual for young people his age to be on their own. Far from. But this?

He tried his best not to glance back up at him to send him a comforting look as the noise of people grew louder until finally horseback-riders could be spotted among the trees. They came to his side as soon as they saw him. Their horses snorting and stamping the ground restlessly when they halted as their riders observed the stranger before them with cautious looks in their eyes. Some already pointing their swords at him as were he some dangerous beast who could attack.

“Stranger,” one of the men, the leader, presumably, spoke in hostility, “have you come across a thief carrying a Shepherd’s crook in your travels through these woods?”

“I cannot say that I have,” was Nicholas’ response, already not likening these people. Such lack of manners. “Can I ask what he stole? Surely it iz valuable if you decide to hunt him, yes?”

The stranger’s eyes narrowed into slits. “That is of no concern to you, Cossack. Tell me, why does a native to the Spires fare this far south? What business could your kind possibly have in our kingdom?”

Nicholas held back a scoff. Instead carefully folding his demeanor into one as friendly as he dared. “You did not answer my question, no? Why should I answer yours? It iz not fair, iz it?”

“You insolent Cossack,” another spat in anger, “your kind is not welcome in our lands! Why must you soil our lands. Take your horse, go back to your king.”

A sigh escaped Nicholas then. This was how it was going to be? So be it.

In thought he scratched his black mustache. On one hand he was glad he was taking all their attention away from a certain someone above him. Even with this little interaction between them, he could already tell just what would happen were they to find the boy, guilty of crime or no.

They were a shady bunch. Weaponry decorating them from their booth to their teeth. Scarred and weathered. Shady. Limited amount of supplies in saddle packs. Rustling of chains and ropes sounding whenever someone shifted on their horse or the horse beneath them did.

Bounty hunters no doubt.

Nicholas sighed. “Is freedom not what we are all allowed to travel from kingdom to kingdom as we wish when outside times of war and famine? It iz agreement between Kingdoms of Amaeth, yes? I am as welcome here as you.”

“We are natives to these lands.”

“Of course you are,” Nicholas nodded unimpressed, already wishing this conversation to be over. “And by being so you understand laws of traveling, yes?” He looked at one of the men who held his sword pointed towards him. “The kingdoms did them during truce. Everybody are welcome to travel as they please. From the eastern shore to the west. But, as you are aware, since your Great General went mad three years ago, I have no way of returning home. Boarders closed because of him. Monsters guarding the boarders. Killing those who try to cross to other kingdoms.” He silenced a moment, observing their faces. “This kingdom iz my home as much as it iz yours. For now. Until boarders open and monsters are gone I am stuck here. But, it iz true, no? That one can move as they please, from kingdom to kingdom. Leave one to move to a new as they see fit. And welcome to do so as long as obeying the law of the land?”

“Why come here in the first place,” their presumed leader demanded. “What business did a Cossack as you have here? Your kingdom is far richer than ours. What do you get out of this place?”

“Women,” Nicholas spoke with a wide grin. “They are more beautiful here than in Spires. Who can say no to a beautiful woman from Hibernis? Do not tell me you have not seen the women of the Spires? Truly, like trolls they look when compared.”

His response was well received. The hunters outburst their approval of his words.

All except their leader.

Clearly he had no patience any longer.

“We do not have time for this!” He broke through his peoples’ outbursts, teeth bared in anger. “Do not get distracted! We have a thief to catch! This Cossack is doing nothing but taking our time! That thief can be anywhere by now!”

His men silenced in seconds, all looking at one another with startled expressions upon their faces.

“So?” Their leader continued in frustration, clearly having no patience left for them when none of them seemed to take action. “Search the area. Give the signal once you find him. I want that brat alive. NOW!”

The men scattered. Like dust in the wind. None willing to stay any longer with a leader that angry. One could almost see the veins in their leader’s neck and temples pulsing through his skin.

Their leader stayed behind. Watching them as they disappeared through the trees, some yelling a few last remarks to one another before they would be out of earshot.

First when it was just the two of them left did he turn to Nicholas with a sneer on his lips. Anger prominent.

“You are not here of your own will.” It was a statement. As were it the most obvious thing in the world. “There is no way any of your kind would travel this far south without a mission. Either that or you have done something in your homeland which has caused you to be exiled. There is a bounty on your head I’m sure, do not deny it. See yourself as lucky we have a bigger prey to catch. For now you are the least of our worries. Next time our paths cross, however, you will not be this lucky.”

Nicholas crossed his arms, rising a brow. “Just what did the thief steal? Surely it could not be so valuable as to you wishing to search the entire Ancient Forest?”

The hunter watched him with distaste. “It is not just what he stole, it is what he is in possession of and what it could mean.”

Now it was Nicholas’ turn to narrow his eyes at the hunter. He could sense there were no more answers for him to gain from the other. His whole demeanor more than proving so.

The hunter’s reply had only left more questions than answers.

“I hope you find the thief,” Nicholas settled for saying. Relaxing his posture. Trying to still seem open and friendly and definitely not trying to hide the thief they were hunting above their heads. In his mind he made sure to thank the gods for none of the hunter’s men having taken a look up into the canopy.

He could only imagine what a disaster that would have been, not just for him, but for the young man hiding among the branches as well. “But, are we to cross paths, surely a duel would be welcome? A try for me to win my freedom? Fighting like men. Surely a man of your caliber would not let down the opportunity for such to happen, would you? After all, we men from the Spires are infamous for our swordsmanship, no?”

The hunter nodded. A light appearing in his eyes at the offer. With a quick and swift move he had his sword swung at the Cossack before him. Parried in the blink of an eye by a dagger just before it hit its mark.

“I do not intend to lose the battle,” Nicholas spoke, an eyebrow raised in challenge as he pushed away the sword form his neck and concealed his dagger back into its pocket.

A near despicable grin crossed the hunter’s lips, giving his already angry expression a near mad quality to it. “I will be looking forwards to it,” he declared, following Nicholas’ example as he shed his sword as well. “But do not believe I have any intention to lose.”

“Of course not.”

The hunter eyed him for a moment before sending a nod in acknowledgment to the words. He said nothing as he sat his horse into trot and disappeared into the wilderness of the forest, leaving behind Nicholas and, unknowingly, their target.

Although the encounter had been brief, Nicholas could not help himself from leaning against the trunk of the tree behind him. Thank the gods these hunters had not been more persistent and observant. There still were slight splatters of blood on the branches of the tree, and other leads upon the ground that more than easily could have lead them to their target’s location.

A long while went by before he finally dared to speak up, wishing to be sure no hunter were close enough to listen to him speak, or accidentally being near enough to see were the boy to finally come down.

He had to help him escape from the forest. He knew he had no reason to. The boy was a stranger and not his concern, and the forest was huge and a maze in itself, meaning he would be able to hide just fine. But still. They had been at least nine men. There was only one of him.

  
If first he got caught he would not stand a chance.

“They are gone,” he called towards the canopy, eyes scanning the area just to be certain there were none of the hunters nearby.

No response.

He tried again yet the result remained the same. A question with no answer to come.

An uneasy feeling took hold of Nicholas. He could not possibly have-- no. No that was not possible. There were no way that-- But what if he had? He had been in a horrible condition after all. He was nothing but skin and bone, like a corpse. Sickening pale, from loss of blood no doubt from the injury on his ankle. It had looked infected. Dirtied. Horrible. It had been in dire need for being treated. His body itself had been so bruised that any movement he had done in the short moments he had had with him had caused him more than enough pain. Nothing on his body to shield him from the near freezing autumn wind.

With all that and more than that, he could not possibly have…

His eyes shot up to the canopy. Before he knew it he was moving. Climbing. Pulling himself up into the tree with a speed rarely matched.

There was no way--- It was not possible, it was just his thoughts. The boy were just scared he would be found by them. Nothing else.

He most certainly could not possibly have--

He did not get to finish his thoughts as he finally reached where he knew the boy had been sitting when last he had been up in the tree.

When finally he did, the boy was long gone.


End file.
